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Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Frying Eggs and Chasing Lizards

So the other day, I was at the grocery store where I passed numerous Easter displays and saw that nearly every cart which passed me by contained a carton of eggs. And I thought: eggs... hmmmmm... because when was the last time I had eggs? You know, fried, scrambled, or a nice puffy omelet? And I tell you, I used to make a mean omelet.

I haven't cooked in as many months and years as it's been since Bob's stroke. I can't remember the last time I picked up my omelet pan. Because when your husband has a feeding tube, why bother cooking? Though I do remember the last time I turned on the stove top. That was when Bob's OT needed some water boiled so she could mold his hand splint. That was when every single burner I turned on lit up like a torch. I nearly set the house afire. I kid you not.

But I decided right then and there, in the grocery store, I would buy myself some eggs and make an omelet.

I nearly dropped that carton of eggs when I got out to The Green Machine. As when I went to open the car door, there on the handle was -- a lizard.

Now, I'm not afraid of lizards. And this particular lizard was one of those small, cute-ish ones, you know like the one who sells insurance on TV. But still, he startled the heck out of me. I tried to shoo him away, but instead of jumping to the ground, he scampered down the side of the car and then jumped up on the hood.

So I put my grocery bag in the car and then commenced to try to shoo him off the hood. Because I really didn't want to drive off with the poor guy perched on the hood of The Green Machine. As it would mean certain death for him. And a smashed lizard on the windshield for me.

Now The Green Machine is a 1970's car and I am a 5'4" woman, so therefore I cannot reach all the way across the hood. And every time I tried to shoo that lizard, he sprinted to the other side of the hood. At which point, I would run to the other side of the hood and try to shoo him again.

So there we were, lizard scampering back and forth across the hood. Me--chasing circles around the car. In the grocery store parking lot. I can't imagine what people thought. I finally gave up.

I figured maybe if I started the car, the sound of the engine would scare him off the hood.

Which I did. The result of which was that the lizard sort of freaked out, stood up on his tiptoes and lifted his tail as high as he could off the hood. And remained frozen there. In sort of a lizard ballet pose.

That's when I noticed a second lizard. On the windshield wiper. Jeepers. So now I have two lizards facing certain death on my car.

So I got out of the car and grabbed the rag I use to check the oil and after slapping the rag around a bit, was finally able to shoo them both off the hood, onto the ground---where they both ran under The Green Machine. And I thought, oh no. Now I'm going to run them over when I back up.

But I wasn't about to get on my hands and knees trying to shoo them out from under the car. So I said a quick Prayer for Lizard Safety, held my breath and drove off. I do hope they survived.

When I got home, I swear, coming up the wheelchair ramp, I encountered not one, not two, but perhaps a dozen or more lizards all glaring rather accusingly at me.

But back to the eggs...

My thought had been to make an omelet. But I realized, after I was home, that I didn't have a single ingredient for an omelet, except eggs. And I found my olive oil had solidified on the cupboard shelf. And there wasn't a stick of butter in the fridge. Even the salt was all clumpy. The pepper not much better. And when I searched for the omelet pan in the bin where we store our pots, I tell you, it was rather like unearthing something from an archeological dig. The pan was covered with cobwebs.

But I did not give up. I cleaned up the pan and decided to fry an egg using that cholesterol-free-can't-believe-it's-not-butter stuff. But first, I made sure the burners were free of dust. No need to set the house afire this time.

Even so, the kitchen was soon filled with smoke. That egg was quite blackened and a bit crunchy.... Pretty much burnt to a crisp. But I ate it anyway....

So my next bright idea was to boil the rest of the eggs. I'm not even going to tell you how that one turned out. And that was after I had to ask my mother for directions.

This from a woman with 30 cookbooks on her shelf.

I tell you, sometimes I swear, Bob wasn't the only one brain damaged from this stroke...

5 comments:

RO?FLMAO! Poor Diane. We eat so little in our house now. One TV dinner will feed both of us. I haven't attempted eggs yet although I have boiled eggs in my microwave. Yes, I cracked them into a bowl first.

I guess you know your heat was too high, huh? Next time heat the pan and then turn off the heat. Let the residual heat in the pan cook your eggs. Don't even put butter in the pan until the heat is off.

You only have 30 cookbooks? I probably have double that. But why would you look at it to scramble eggs. You're just out of practice.

Bet the smoke didn't help Bob's breathing any. I know in this house with T's lungs, the slightest bit of smoke will set off breathing difficulties.

About the Geckos, do you have GEICO insurance or the other guy? Maybe they were trying to tell you something. lol

Bwahahahahaha. Lizard consortium upon your hood? Wait...I believe cartoon music was playing in the background! And then in your driveway? What a riot! It's great you wanted to cook! Hope you keep wanting to do so. : )

Thanks for the laugh. I visualized the egg and lizard episode and really got some good chuckles. Will share an egg accident that involved my husband pre stroke , sometime. I am forgetting how to cook too, especially baking, which I used to pretty well, but no more.Joyce

That's quite the story. I'm just as glad that we don't have a lot of lizards around here...if it ever warms up enough that the few that are around ever want to come out.

One of my first post-stroke attempts to cook resulted in me setting off the fire alarms in my apartment building, which certainly impressed the guy that I was dating at the time...not to mention the rest of the residents (this was the middle of December, and it was quite cold outside)...

Welcome To Our Pink House

About Me

Bob and I were married 09/16/94. He is my soulmate, the love of my life. Bob is an artist and I am a writer.
On 10/20/10, Bob, following his doctor's advice, underwent a carotid endarterectomy. When I left him in ICU that night, he was fine and I thought in good hands. Two hours after my departure, a nurse noted on his chart that Bob's speech was slurred and his right arm was paralyzed. The nurse did not call a doctor. Later that night, the nurse noted that Bob could not move his right arm or leg, still a doctor was not called. The next morning, the nurse noted that he was paralyzed on the right side, a "12" on the Glasgow Coma Scale, disoriented and confused, but no doctor was informed. I arrived at 9:00 a.m. and immediately called for the doctor. He was rushed to surgery. It was 12 hours too late. The CAT scan showed 2/3 of his brain had been damaged. I was told he would not survive. Somehow, he did.
Bob was discharged from the hospital on 12/31/10 and, although the hospital wanted him sent to a nursing home, I brought him home instead. This is the story of our journey since that day. This is also a love story.
(Bob passed away 5/28/15 and I am trying to survive....)